


Making snow angels and keeping Sam on his toes

by blurryfaceimagines



Series: Wincest Love Week ~ 4 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Poor Sam, XD, an almost snowball fight, building snow angels, my shitty attempt at humor, sack-of-potatoes!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurryfaceimagines/pseuds/blurryfaceimagines
Summary: Friday's Prompts: Snow angels &  Hot chocolate + snugglesSeeing that Dean hadn't even paused in building his damn ball, Sam continues, "I am not having a snowball fight with you!"Hearing the finality in Sam's voice Dean huffed out a dejected breath and slowly started rubbing the ball out."Fine! But we're still not goin' back!"





	

>  

_Just a little milk run_ , he'd said.

  
_Gotta get outta the bunker_ , he'd said.

  
On the other hand, Sam couldn't exactly blame his brother for wanting to get out of the bunker. Cases had been few and far between recently, which meant they'd been cooped up in the Men of Letter's bunker for quite some time now, doing research and trying to stay ahead of the damned London Chapter.

  
Not that _that_ had gotten them much far. They were still lacking any important information, and what little they _had_ managed to scrape up was from hacking into information databases.

  
Which basically meant they'd only gotten what those people wanted others to know- having carefully kept any real information from being posted.

  
It was frustrating.

  
Lost in his glum thoughts, Sam stopped short when his foot sank in about six inches of snow. Quickly stepping back and shaking the snow from his foot, he looked up, glaring indignantly at Dean for not having warned him.

  
But Dean was busy bending over near a swing set, and Sam couldn't help but admire the way his worn out jeans clung to his frame, seeming to accentuate his bow-legs with how he was bent down, hugging the swell of his ass deliciously.

  
Faintly it registered that Dean had brought them to a park. An empty park, covered in the thick inches of snow- ground and rides alike. Which was why it was empty, and also why his foot was now all wet.

  
When Sam's gaze lands back on Dean, he's standing up, and he's about to give his brother a piece of his mind for being so far into the snowy park and _gosh Dean, do you want to get sick?!_ ; but between a deciding that and a blink, something soft but so cold it feels like chilled knives, connects with his face.

  
As he's sputtering and clearing snow from his face, he hears Dean's peels of laughter. Just as he wipes the snow from his eyes, sure enough, he sees Dean doubled over and red faced, like that was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.

  
"Ha-ha, Dean! Very funny!" He would glare with both hands on his hips till Dean dropped the idea they'd be having snowball fights and came back. Only, he was feeling cold, and the snowball to his face had made it worse, so he stuck to glaring while his hands here clenched inside his coat pockets.

  
But Dean wouldn't be Dean if he were to just give in now, would he? Instead, he bent over, this time facing Sam, so he had a clear view of Dean gathering snow to make another ball. Even if he had still faced the other way, Sam would have known immediately what he was up to.

  
"Nuh-uh! Don't even think about it Dean!"

  
"C'mon, Sam! Just for a while!"

  
Seeing that Dean hadn't even paused in building his damn ball, Sam continues, "I am _not_ having a snowball fight with you!"

  
Hearing the finality in Sam's voice Dean huffed out a dejected breath and slowly started rubbing the ball out.  
"Fine! But we're still not goin' back!"

  
Sam rolled his eyes, letting his shoulders relax when he saw Dean breaking the ball instead of making it firmer.  
"Why? What more do ya wanna do? Make snow angels?"

  
He had meant is as a joke. Said it sarcastically. But one look at Dean and the brightness to his eyes, he regretted saying it.  
"Dude! We're not gonna make snow angels!"

  
It was Dean's turn to give him a glare this time, after which he promptly turned his back on Sam.  
" _I'm_ makin' snow angels, whether or not you join me."

  
And okay, childish petulance aside, this was one of the dumbest things Dean had decided to do to spite him. Actually, scratch that, Sam was starting to suspect Dean genuinely wanted to have snowball fights, and make snow angels and perhaps even build a snowman. Which, okay, if seen as how they'd missed having the chance to do those very things growing up, maybe it made sense.

  
But! Dean wasn't dressed properly! The idiot was still wearing his leather jacket; and _fine_  so he'd put on a sweater under that, but that wasn't the point! His clothes were already soaked in patches where the snow had clung to him. He would always be surprised by Dean's ability to ignore the whether conditions when he put his mind to something.

  
"Look, Dean. We'll come back, okay? Tomorrow, when the Sun isn't going about to go down, and when you're dressed better."

  
When Dean still refused to acknowledge him in anyway, he prodded gently, "Okay?"

  
And, okay, so much for gentle prodding! The guy just dropped down right there, and started working his arms and legs to make his angel.

  
Sam couldn't do much but gape for a good minute before he managed to pull his mouth closed (yes, he had been gaping open mouthed). He shook his slightly, not able to decide if he should laugh or not. _Definitely no laughing_ , he thought to himself. No need to give him reason to do this any longer than twenty minutes at most.

  
Five minutes of watching his brother in the snow and Sam was fighting the urge to go over and drag him out- kicking and screaming if it came down to it. The worry ever present in his mind, and Dean's darkening jeans meant that he was going to give in pretty soon.

  
Another painfully long five minutes later found Sam marching over to his brother gingerly, finding it hard to not stop every step and shake the snow out but managing to not do it anyway because getting Dean out was his top priority, thank you very much!

  
Wordlessly, he bent over and hauled Dean over his shoulder, and stood up.

  
Of course, Dean didn't make it easy, having started to struggle immediately, though he didn't kick or punch- taking care to not actually hurt Sam; and Sam made it out of the park, thankful to be on solid ground again.

  
"I have been patient with you, Dean," he kept his voice level, giving the impression of being much angrier than he felt. In all honesty, he felt more relieved than anything to have Dean out of the damn park.

  
"But enough is enough! I won't bring you here tomorrow now."

  
Dean didn't respond for a while after that.

  
It was when he started struggling again, did Sam realize that it must seem odd to any onlooker to see a man carrying another man like a sack of potatoes.

  
"P-Pu'mme down, man! I can walk."

  
Hesitant at first, he realized that they were in the more populated parts of Lebanon now, and seeing as there was no sign of another park, Sam slowly let his brother down.

  
Dean refused to make eye contact with him and resolutely turned his head away even when looking at Sam would have naturally happened. Sam felt a sting of hurt, but reminded himself not to make Dean further uncomfortable, seeing as he had been the one seen in public held by someone else like a bratty kid.

  
Sam would worry about his brother's hurt feelings; but he was too occupied worrying over how sick Dean might get and keeping their pace brusque so they'd get back as soon as possible. Besides, he thought to himself with a sly smile, Dean looked pretty all flushed like that.

 

* * *

 

  
About five minutes from the bunker, Dean had started sneezing every step. Sam had quickly gotten a folded napkin out of pocket and handed it to Dean, who had accepted it gratefully and blew his nose on it loudly. When he looked up, his eyes had watered up and even in darkness Sam could see his nose bad become a bright red.

  
He let Dean open the door and enter the bunker, following closely and quickly pulling the door closed behind them.  
"Dean, go take a shower."

  
Wincing at the well-deserved glare, he shrugged a moment later. Dean _had_ been acting like a child lately, and Sam had spent the whole day scolding him and bargaining with him, he honestly felt he deserved a break if he accidentally ordered Dean around. After all, the guy had gotten himself sick.

  
Dean seemed to understand, from the sheepish look he gave him before heading to the showers, shedding his jacket on the way already.

  
Waiting till he was sure Dean was in the shower, Sam hurried to the kitchen to make sure they had everything they needed before heading to his room.

  
The first thing he did was remove the damn boots and peeling soaked socks off, glaring at them distastefully before tossing them into the hamper. Then he grabbed a fresh set of warm sleep clothes and towel and headed to the bunker's communal showers. Dean preferred the more private one, but Sam enjoyed these as well.

  
A quick, steamy shower later, he headed to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.

  
He was just finishing pouring out two mugs when Dean padded in, wearing his warm robe over his sleep clothes, looking pink and tired.

  
"Hey."

  
Dean went over to one of the kitchen stools before responding in kind, his voice already raspy.

  
Sam brought over the mugs to the table, placing one in front on Dean and another across from him. He knew he had to get something besides liquid into Dean before he could give him medicine, so he fetched the medicine and peanut butter sandwiches he'd made.

  
He went to place them in front of Dean but saw that his brother had moved to sit across the table- beside where his mug had been placed, and was nursing his own drink with both hands.

  
Clearing his throat, more out of habit than to diffuse an awkward situation, he set the plate so it was between their seats and finally sat down. He didn't miss how Dean leaned closer, as if seeking the extra warmth coming from him.

  
They drank in silence, Sam shifting towards his brother when he picked up a sandwich.

  
When he was half a sandwich down, Sam cleared his throat- this time to get his attention.  
"Dean, 'm sorry about carrying you so much of the way... I had to get you outta the park, and then I kinda lost track."

  
The quiet snort coming from his side was unexpected. And somewhat offending. Here he was, feeling guilty out of his mind for any emotional trauma he might have caused his brother by that; and his damn brother was making fun of him. Stupid Dean, he thought to himself sullenly.

  
"C'mon Sammy! Don't look like you ran over my dog." Sam flinched despite the fondness in Dean's tone. He still felt Dean hadn't forgiven him about Amelia.

  
When he didn't glance at his brother despite his awkward laugh, he felt a hand placed on his shoulder.

  
"Sam. I didn't mean-"

  
And he understood. He did. So he cut Dean off with a smile before booping his nose.  
"Y'know, you could be a Santa's reindeer for all I know with how red your nose is."

  
Dean stared at him wide eyed for a moment before rolling his eyes.  
"Or a clown."

  
Sam grinned and booped his nose again.  
"Nah. You're too pretty to be a clown."

  
The flush that colored Dean's cheeks only added to making him look like a deer, and Sam couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

  
But Dean wasn't looking angry, or upset, and after a moment of giving Sam a challenging stare; which Sam met with a confused one, he suddenly grinned before launching himself at Sam, tackling him to the ground.

  
The landing would have been much more painful without the added padding of their warm clothes and double layers.

  
When Sam realized he was now on their kitchen floor with an armful of big brother, he threw his head back and laughed, wrapping his arms tight around Dean just as he started to push off.

  
"Oi!"

  
"Nuh-uh, big brother! You'll get your cuddles!"

  
Dean swore up and down and grumbled about how he didn't do chick flicks or cuddles, but Sam only smiled tucked him in his lap.

  
Dean wouldn't have made holding him this easy if he really despised it. Although Sam knew his brother well enough to know he liked being cuddled, he loosened his hold after a bit, leaving an opening for Dean to pull away if he wished to.

  
Dean didn't.


End file.
